


Like This?

by theundeadsiren (rhoen)



Category: In the Flesh (TV)
Genre: Attempted Fluff, Christmas, In The Flesh Advent 2014, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-12-06
Updated: 2014-12-06
Packaged: 2018-02-28 01:51:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,339
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/2714531
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/rhoen/pseuds/theundeadsiren
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Rick thinks it would be nice to try baking some mince pies for his mum. The problem? He's useless in the kitchen. Kieren offers to help him practice.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Like This?

**Author's Note:**

> For some countdown to the 24th (or 25th?) of December thing, idk, but it was an excuse to write RickRen.
> 
> [Related artwork here](https://31.media.tumblr.com/b478bbe943f976e52b4e9bd136ff7be1/tumblr_inline_ng2b1sHsvP1s7ilae.jpg) (by [thebadmoonsrising](http://thebadmoonsrising.tumblr.com/)) which you should definitely check out because it's unbelievably amazing <3)

**You may not take this fic and edit or reupload it - in whole or in part - without my express permission. This includes translations.**

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Thank you for respecting my wishes

* * *

 

“Like this?”

Kieren peered over Rick’s shoulders, eyeing the state of the mixture.

“Uh, I think you did something… wrong…?”

Rick sighed, resting his hands on the side of the bowl, pastry mixture sticking to his fingers. He’d already learnt that rubbing his head in frustration only got ingredients all over his face, and as he’d already managed to spill some flour all over the worktop, he tried to keep any further mess to a minimum. He didn’t want Sue and Steve to come back from Jem’s practice and find that he and Ren had destroyed the kitchen in their absence. Kieren had tidied up the flour, letting Rick get on with his mission. He was starting to realise they might need all the time they could get before he perfected this. As he looked up at the window and saw his reflection against the darkness outside, he brought his hand up anyway, using the back of it to rub away a smudge of flour from his cheek. Eyeing the decorations around the window, Rick wondered if he could get away with kissing Kieren again, but then decided against it – it had already taken them long enough to get started.

Rick really couldn’t cook. His attempts at Home Economics had been such failures he’d often just tipped the resulting mess into the bin before getting home, saying he’d eaten it, and had dropped the class when it was no longer compulsory. He wished they’d done mince pies in class, then he might at least have some idea what he was doing. Rick knew what the end product was supposed to look like, but the process to get there…

“We could keep going anyway, see how they turn out?” Kieren suggested. Rick half grimaced, half smiled.

“You sure they won’t kill someone?”

“Well it’s just flour, butter, sugar and… what else did you put in?”

“There wasn’t sugar.”

“You sure?”

Rick looked at the folded piece of paper he’d copied the recipe onto, squinting at his own writing.

“Yeah, it didn’t say to use any.”

“Weird, I thought…”

Rick had copied the recipe word-for-word from the notebook he’d found. It had belonged to his Granny Stewart, and he’d thought that trying to bake something for his mum from her mum’s recipe collection would be nice. The measurements were in ounces, which had confused him, but it turned out that most stuff in the kitchen had imperial as well as metric on it anyway – all he had to do was learn how to make the damn things.

Kieren was leafing through a printed cookbook he’d pulled from beside the microwave, reading carefully. Rick watched him, slowly rubbing his fingers to get some of the mixture off of his fingers – it felt weird, and he wasn’t sure he liked it. The texture was wrong – how was this supposed to make a decent, edible pastry?

“This recipe has sugar, as well as salt,” Kieren read. “And no lard.”

Rick almost sighed in relief. Lard was gross.

“Want to try it instead? This is just a test run anyway, isn’t it?” Kieren suggested, looking up at Rick, who nodded gratefully at the idea.

“Sure. I thought there was supposed to be sugar too – must be some weird old person thing to use salt and lard to make the food crappy. Who even uses lard?”

Kieren shrugged. “Old people. Chuck that in the bin and bring the bowl here – I’ll clean it for you.”

Rick did as he was told, grateful for how helpful Kieren was being. He hadn’t even laughed at Rick when he’d admitted what he wanted to do, and had asked for advice. Kieren wasn’t exactly a culinary wizard, but had offered to help Rick practice, and as his parents were away with Jem until late they had the house to themselves. Rick liked it best like this, when the two of them could be completely alone.

Kieren took the now-empty mixing bowl from Rick, and lightly rinsed it.

“Give us yer hands, Rick.”

Confused, Rick did as he was told, biting his lip as Kieren tugged him closer and brought his hands under the warm running water, gently cleaning off the mix sticking to his fingers. He loved how the attention felt, how Kieren’s deft, slender hands worked over his. Sometimes Kieren just touched him for no apparent reason. Rick could wash his own hands, but saw no reason to protest. He loved any excuse for them to touch or be close, he just wished he could get even closer, touch that little bit more…

Finished with Rick’s hands, Kieren let him go, already focusing on cleaning the bowl more thoroughly. “Want to dry your hands and get some sugar down? Top left cupboard.”

Rick knew the Walker household well enough to know what was kept in each cupboard in the kitchen. He hesitated for a moment, mourning the loss of contact, before agreeing: “yeah.”

When Kieren was finally done and had dried the mixing bowl, he placed it on the worktop, turning to open the drawer containing drying cloths. Rick raised an eyebrow at what Kieren pulled out from the back of the drawer.

“What in the hell is that?”

Kieren smirked at him as he unfolded and put on the gaudy apron. “Like it?”

Rick eyed the offensive garment, and the tacky cliché printed on the front of it: ‘kiss the cook’.

“Erm… no? My god, you look awful Ren.”

Kieren just laughed, reaching around to tie the chord. Seizing the opportunity, Rick stepped closer.

“Here, let me…”

Kieren did, turning to let Rick tie the knot.

“You’re so mean sometimes,” Kieren complained without venom. Finished with the knot, Rick wrapped his arms around him, trying to ignore the crinkle of the weird material.

“Only because this apron deserves it.”

Kieren laughed at that, and, smiling happily, Rick kissed the warm, exposed skin of Kieren’s neck. They weren’t alone like this often enough, and for a moment Rick wondered if they should just give up on the whole thing, go up to Kieren’s room and make out. But, despite the way Kieren’s tilted his neck and the hand that had come to rest on Rick’s arm, Kieren gently pulled away several moments later.

“You measure, I’ll mix,” he suggested.

Disappointed, Rick dutifully moved over to where they’d left the scales, waiting for Kieren to read out the measurements from Sue’s cookery book. As he was passed the flour, Rick endeavoured to get more of the required three hundred and fifty grams into measuring bowl than he had last time.

When it came to measuring out the butter, it was still messy, but Rick was grateful he didn’t have to chop up any more lard. He’d learnt the first time to place the stuff carefully in the mixing bowl, and still had some flour dusting his top from the cloud that had billowed out earlier.

“All at once?” he asked.

“Yeah?” Kieren guessed. “It didn’t say to do it gradually or anything – just to rub it in.”

After lowering the cubes of butter into the bowl, Rick washed his hands, and then returned to Kieren’s back and wrapped his arms around him again, watching him slowly work the butter and flour together. He was learning what to do, Rick told himself as he watched Kieren work. Whatever Kieren was doing, it had already produced a much better result than Rick’s attempt.

“Can you get me the sugar?”

As he moved away, Rick took in the way Kieren frowned at the open book.

“It says to mix in the hundred grams of sugar… reckon that’s using a spoon, or your hands?”

Trying to focus on his task, Rick couldn’t reply in time.

“Well my hands are already dirty…” Kieren decided, speaking more to himself than to Rick. He picked up the spatula anyway, considering it for a second as he flexed the tip between his fingers, but when Rick handed him the measured sugar he put it back down on the counter. Kieren dumped the sugar in the bowl, and just continued using his hands.

A good fifteen minutes later, they had lined the tins with the mixture, and spooned some mincemeat into each, before they’d covered them with a pastry lid. It was fiddly, and Kieren was clearly far better at this kind of thing than Rick, but he kept going anyway. One recipe called for a beaten egg to be brushed on top, the other for milk, so they went for the easier option. Kieren held the small glass of milk as Rick painted the liquid on, learning from the way the first lot ran down the side of the pastry not to be too generous. As they slid the inconsistently sized pies into the oven, Rick hoped they’d somehow magically turn into something closer to the pre-made ones they bought in the shop.

Washing up was always the worst part. Rick hurried through the chore, thinking of the time left before they had to take the mince pies out of the oven, and how long they had left before the rest of the Walkers would be home.

Kieren still hadn’t taken the apron off, and Rick watched him out of the corner of his eye as he wiped down the work surface, as well as the handles that were also dusted with flour.

“You can take that thing off you know?”

Kieren raised his eyebrow. “You not think it looks good on me?”

It wouldn’t look good on anyone, Rick thought. He also couldn’t deny the fact that, despite what he was wearing, Kieren was still goddamn attractive. “There’s no way I’m gonna kiss you while you’re wearing it,” he warned, leaning against the counter.

“Well I’ll just leave it on then…”

Despite his threat, Kieren stepped closer. Rick tried to hide a shiver as Kieren leaned towards Rick for a kiss, testing his resolve. There was no way Rick was strong enough to resist. He tried, for a second, but gave in. Rick knew by know how Kieren tasted, how it felt to kiss him, but it still made his heart skip a beat. He couldn’t understand how something could feel so good, and couldn’t help leaning into the warming touch.

His hands found the knot he’d tied, and worked at undoing it, taking far longer than he should as he was distracted by the way Kieren’s lips moved against his. Finally tugging it loose, Rick broke the kiss to lift the offensive garment from Kieren’s neck, not caring when it slid to the floor from where he dumped it on the worktop.

“When did we put them in?” Kieren asked, eventually pulling away.

Rick eyed the clock on the wall. “Twelve minutes ago.”

Kieren crouched down, peering into the oven. “Wanna wait here?” He had already settled on the floor, cross-legged. Rick sat down too, legs outstretched and his back against the cupboard next to the oven, feeling the heat from it. He twisted, peering in through the glass, but wasn’t quite sure how to judge how well they were baking. Instead, he took Kieren’s hand, running his thumb over Kieren’s fingers, taking in Kieren’s features that were lit up by the warm glow of the oven light.

“Come here a sec?”

Looking up, Kieren obliged, shifting closer. Rick just pulled him into his lap.

“Thanks,” he said simply, not caring that it would only take five minutes of sitting like this before he got pins and needles. It was worth it. Kieren smiled softly.

“You’re welcome.” Kieren settled against him, arms wrapping around Rick. “How many more practices do you think you’ll need?”

“Hopefully none…”

Kieren laughed softly, pressing against Rick. “Wasn’t that bad, was it?”

“I’d rather just eat them.”

“Your mum will appreciate it though,” Kieren reminded him. “And I like spending time with you too.”

“Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

Rick looked at the way Kieren was looking at him. Something strange hung between them –it felt like some sort of admission. Rick couldn’t understand how anything like this had ever happened between them, but since it had, he didn’t want anything to ever change. He liked the way they had become close, the way they got to touch each other when they were alone, the way it felt when they kissed, and the way it made him feel to be around Kieren. He was always amazed that Kieren seemed to feel the say way about him.

“I like spending time with you too, Ren.”

Kieren just grinned, hugging Rick tightly. Rick held him back. He loved the warmth and acceptance he found in Kieren, the way he knew they could trust each other completely.

He also loved the way they could get so lost in each other, in the way they kissed. However, ten minutes later, when they realised that the mince pies were definitely much darker than they should be, Rick tried to make a mental note not to get so distracted next time they baked.

The pies were far too hot to try, so they just left them to cool, and went to find a comfier place to curl up together through in the living room. Despite it being dark outside already, Kieren turned the lights off, leaving the Christmas light on, and pulled the curtains open. Together they watched the snow that had started softly falling in the streetlight – or at least that was the intention, but they had better ways to spend their time alone, and were inevitably distracted.


End file.
